Diary of a Reluctant Psychic

Ellie Duvall Thompson

Description

"Yes I see dead people. I see them, I hear them and I feel them, I also feel people's pain and see it inside my head. I'm not proud of it, I don't like it but I can't make it go away." Her secret life was now out in the open.

Informations

• Publié par: Flying Horse Books
• Date de parution: 01 novembre 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781910531037
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Diary of a Reluctant Psychic
Ellie Duvall Thompson
Published in 2014 by Flying Horse Books an imprint of The Wessex Astrologer Ltd 4A Woodside Road Bournemouth BH5 2AZ England
www.wessexastrologer.com
Copyright Ellie Duvall Thompson 2014
Ellie Duvall Thompson asserts the right to be recognised as the author of this work
ISBN 9781902405964
A catalogue record of this book is available at The British Library
Cover design by Jonathan Taylor
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission. A reviewer may quote brief passages.
I am neither a writer nor an author so please find it in your heart not to judge me for my grammar or style of writing. Judge me for not caring, judge me for not trying or judge me for giving up, but as I will always have hope and love in my heart, my epitaph will read:
She Tried
The human way to evolve is not as a spirit but as a man, for the spirit of man does not need to evolve. Man in his many guises is still not perfect; he is still a being of malevolence, but he will soon learn that it is not by following others that he will attain purity and eternal life, but by seeing with his human eyes that all life is sacred, and all life is a gift.
The Keepers
Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
First Breath
The Silence is Broken
The Doorway Opens
Goodbye for Now
It Hurts
Distance of time
You re Scum
A Close Shave
The Turning Point
Enough is Enough!
The Kiss
Be Mine Forever
Three is the Magic Number
She s Mine, Not Yours!
Your Job is your Family
Another Time, Another Place
The Hate Inside
Find Me
The Darkness
Imagination is Everything
The Move
Moving On
Till Death do us Part
The Truth is Out
A World Suffused with Pain
Thou Shalt not Judge
Do You Understand all you See?
Life is Cruel
Blood is Thicker than Water
A Hug is a Handshake from the Heart
What We Teach can be Bequeathed
She is Life and Love
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
I want to say a big Thank you to some special people: to my mum and dad for always loving me; to my husband for marrying me - I will love you forever; to my daughters for choosing me as your mum, I am so proud of all three of you; to Michaela for the endless cups of tea and rather rude banter; and finally to Julie and Margaret - I couldn t have done it without either of you!
Prologue
November 1998
The glass doors of the hospital gleamed brightly in the morning sun. The over-flowing steel ashtrays on either side were like smelly, grotesque statues. As Dreanna got closer the doors opened automatically and she walked through them towards her mother s ward. Her head was flustered and confused and an uncomfortable feeling of fullness was trapped inside her mind. Death and dying was all around her; she could feel it, she could see it, and she could taste it. Black emotions entered her body, and a strong pain ate its way into her core. It wasn t the transition of death but the grief that it left behind that was using her body like a sponge, soaking up every piece of life she had left.
She stood still, closed her eyes and used her words as her weapons: sharp, angled spears that tried hard to defeat the emotions that whirled around in her head. Each word she spoke grew louder until in her own mind she inwardly screamed, Look straight in front of you. Don t look at the patients, don t look at the relatives. These people are not important to you, they don t care about you and you don t care about them. All they are is just more of your own species that are sick and dying. IGNORE THEM, IGNORE THEM!
Her eyes were fixed on the door of the ward sister s office. She tapped on it gently.
Come in, a woman s voice replied.
Hi, Dreanna entered the room. I m here to see my mother, she was brought in yesterday - Iris
Oh yes, please take a seat, the skinny but perfectly groomed woman answered. Your mother is very sick you know. Her sores are badly infected and she has contracted septicaemia. She shuffled some paper. Your father wants you to sign the do not resuscitate forms. To be honest with you we were expecting you yesterday, but I suppose you were too busy? Her tone was sarcastic and she frowned at Dreanna.
Dreanna looked at her and the energy she was generating in the room. Sarcastic, often thinks highly of herself, self-absorbed, controlling, hiding a secret that s kept her prisoner all her life, arse-kisser, likes being tied up in sexual games hmm. Dreanna s thoughts made her smile. I don t have to explain anything to you as to my whereabouts yesterday, and yes, we as a family do understand how sick our mother is, and excuse my candour but your nurses - or should I say the district nurses - have been coming in daily for the last couple of months, so in all honesty the fault lies with them as they should have known the severity of my mother s wounds and sores. So please pass me the forms so I can sign them. Dreanna returned the same sarcastic smile she received and signed the papers that were passed over the desk to her.
Now may I please see my mother? Dreanna s eyes never left the gaze of the Sister.
Did your mother never tell you it s rude to stare? the ward sister asked.
Did yours never tell you to be careful about getting tied to the bed? One day you might lose the keys to your handcuffs - now that would be a reason to stare wouldn t it? Dreanna pulled her gaze away and smiled as the Sister s cheeks began to glow a bright crimson. Bay four isn t it?
The Sister stuttered, Yes, but how did you know? I haven t told you yet, and how ?
It s on the board behind you, derr! Dreanna sucked in her lips in a bid to contain her smile. Thank you so much for all your help. It s been such a pleasure meeting you, keep up the good work.
Iris lay alone in a four-bedded cubical, highly sedated. Her breathing was deep and shallow, her weightless, child-like body covered by a white sheet and a bright pink duvet. A drip had been inserted into one of the frail veins in her hand, and she had a vacuous expression on her face. Dreanna moved a plastic orange chair from the corner and placed it next to her mother s bed. She held her hand in hers and stroked each finger in turn, examining their deformity and the tautness of the thin pale skin that encased each bone. She could find no words to say to her. She had no words in her mind, even her thoughts had disappeared. The darkness in her mind moved around her body and before long all she could see was the obscurity of blackness. The whole ward and hospital had disappeared from her sight. Was she now in her mother s head?
Dreanna blinked and rubbed her eyes, but the dim shadows of obscurity didn t leave her. She was in nowhere-land; a state of total limbo where she could move neither forward nor backward. There was no fear, no happiness, no movement; everything was at a standstill, everything was stagnant and halted. Iris s mind was immobile like the pathetic vessel her body had become. She was paralyzed from the neck down, wearing nappies like a newborn baby, and now her body, her vessel, was fighting for life against a rampant infection eating its way through her like maggots feeding on necrotic tissue. How strong was her mother s body to keep fighting in this way? Dreanna knew she would have to be the stalwart figure here, she would have to be robust and resilient. Whatever was to come, whatever was to happen, there had to be a reason. There is always a reason, isn t there? She was brought back to earth by her mother shouting one solitary word.
Glenda! Iris was clearly incensed.
Dreanna gazed, astonished that her mother had actually said something, but why Glenda, her neighbour?
She sees all that is going on Dreanna . A voice came from nowhere.
Dreanna repeated, She sees all that is going on? So she really is split between the distance of time and the transition of death. She really is stuck in limbo, isn t she?
Yes my child she is.
Dreanna shook her head like a dog shaking water from its fur; reality had returned and so had the ward, the bed and her mother s unnatural state. She kissed Iris s hand and left the hospital, knowing wherever and whatever was going on in her life, her mother somehow observed it all from afar.
First Breath
December 6th 1967
Patrick picked up another nail and hammered it into the un-planed piece of wood. His mind was on other things that day; all he could think about was the imminent birth of his child. If he had his way he would have twenty children, but we don t always get what we want in life do we? The images of his own childhood filled his mind when the midwife, who had not long cycled in from the local cottage hospital, shouted from upstairs.
Patrick, your baby is almost here, do you want to come and watch?
Patrick shouted back nervously, Not bloody likely! You stay upstairs and do your job. I ll stay down here and do mine.
Patrick and Iris had spent seven long years trying to conceive their fourth child and had just about given up hope of adding to their brood. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was just luck; either way all Patrick was thinking about at that precise moment was a jumble of memories from his past, the pain his wife was going through, and getting that blasted desk he had started building finished before his other kids returned home from school.
His hammer hit the nail for the sixth time, finally joining the old pieces of wood together to form the legs of the desk. It wasn t the best bit of carpentry in the world, but it would serve a purpose and at least stop his squabbling brood arguing about having nowhere to do their homework. Patrick put his hand into the rusty old biscuit tin that stored the different nails and screws and begun rummaging around for another four inch flat-headed metal spike, then heard the midwife s voice ricochet around the tiny box room upstairs. Patrick stopped his work, his heart missed a beat. What would the outcome be?